Panic
by lawnmowerelf
Summary: The meld with Spock Prime leaves Kirk with a severe phobia. slash
1. Kirk's POV

James Kirk has always prided himself on being practically fearless. But now, after Delta Vega, any time Spock's hands get anywhere near his face his heart lurches in fear. He's got no problems with Spock's hands around his throat, sometimes he even asks for it, but any time either of his hands start to edge towards Jim's face he has to shift away.

The very thought of Spock touching his mind fills him with terror. He knows the older Spock didn't mean it, that he'd had no idea that he was causing Jim pain with the meld. After all, from the memories that slipped through it had never bothered the other Kirk. But between his grief and guilt and rage over the fate of Vulcan and the older grief for his Kirk, Spock's emotions had burned, hot and dry and overwhelming.

But what had hurt the worst had been the feeling of violation, the sense of something being inside him without his consent. Necessary or not, whether the other Kirk would have welcomed it or not, the sensation had left Jim feeling hot and shaky and vaguely nauseous.

And he can't bear the thought that his Spock, who he's rapidly coming to care for, maybe even love, might make him feel the same way.

Then one night he doesn't manage to shy away. He's on his back on the bed, Spock stretched out on top of him, and he doesn't even notice Spock moving until warm fingers are brushing against his face. And then he feels Spock's mind, and he panics.

When he finally calms down enough to pay any attention to his surroundings again he realizes that he's wedged himself into the far corner of the room, knees pulled up as if to hide him from the rest of the room. And Spock is still on the bed, one hand holding his bleeding nose and staring at Jim with a mix of confusion and what looks suspiciously like hurt on his face.

Jim is hot, his hands are shaking with leftover adrenaline, his heart is pounding and it's taking entirely too much effort to keep his dinner in his stomach where it belongs. And Spock is looking at him like he just kicked his puppy.

He's tempted to just say fuck it, pull on his clothes and leave, but he's not sure that he's physically capable of walking right now and falling on his face would be really uncaptainly. So he sits there on the floor refusing to meet Spock's eyes, arms wrapped around his bare knees, and tries to breathe through the terror.


	2. Spock's POV

He has noticed the captain's aversion, though he continues to be ignorant of the cause. For all that he nearly strangled the man to death on the bridge, Jim shows no hesitation when Spock touches his neck. He has even placed Spock's hands there himself in the heat of passion, something which Spock admits to himself that he does not understand.

But he can think of no reason for Jim to deny him contact with his face, his mind. So he concludes that logically, since it is James Kirk, he must be doing it as a tease, trying to see how far he can push Spock before he pushes back. The theory is in accordance with the captain's nature, and Spock is content with his conclusion.

Until the night he finally chooses to push back, intentionally maneuvering them so that Jim is underneath him, so that it is almost impossible for him to avoid Spock's fingers.

The instant that he brushes against Jim's mind he knows that he's made a mistake. The arousal is gone as if it had never been, Jim's mind an unthinking whirlwind of terror and desperation and remembered pain.

Spock doesn't even feel the blow that nearly breaks his nose, all his attention focused on blocking the torrent of emotion that is still streaming from Jim's panicked mind. When he finally has control over himself he looks for Jim, and his heart nearly breaks when he sees Jim hunched in on himself in the corner like a child.

And he feels an all too human surge of shame, that his actions have done this to his captain. His friend. That he did it in ignorance is no excuse.

Eventually he slides off the bed, not bothering to reclothe himself, and moves so very slowly towards Jim. The man is already nearly hyper ventilating, and the last thing Spock wants is to frighten him further. When he is finally next to Jim he kneels, making certain to keep his hands in sight and far from Jim's pale face.

"I apologize for my presumption, Jim. I was unaware that you would find my mental presence so...distasteful." What he means is traumatizing, but he can't quite make himself say the word.

Jim closes his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to pull himself together. "Not your fault, Spock. You didn't know. No way you could have."

Spock tries to ignore the way Jim's voice shakes and focus on the words themselves. "What couldn't I know, Jim?"

The blue eyes are open now, red rimmed and slightly wet, but meeting his own. "He did it, on Delta Vega. It was the only way to show me what I needed to know. It hurt."

At Jim's hesitant admission, Spock feels his blood run cold. It may have been necessary, but the older version of himself had done the unthinkable. He had purposefully violated the mind of a man he had dared to call friend.

He dares to rest one hand against Jim's bare knee, and is relieved when he doesn't flinch. "Jim, it should not have been that way. Done properly, and with knowing consent, there is no pain. If I had known what he did, I would never have attempted it without first explaining things to you."

Jim is silent for a long moment, and Spock is content to simply kneel there with the only point of contact between them his hand on Jim's knee. Whatever it is that Jim needs, Spock fully intends to see that he gets. Eventually, though, Jim speaks.

"It really shouldn't hurt?"

Spock shakes his head. "No. It is meant to be a comfort, a way to connect more fully with family, or a partner. I believe that my counterpart on some subconscious level mistook you for his Jim Kirk, and so did not think to explain anything to you before he acted."

Jim bites his lower lip, then takes a deep breath. "Okay. Try it again, but nice and slow."

He blinks, not entirely certain that he heard Jim properly. "You wish me to attempt a meld again, now?"

Jim nods. "Yeah, I do. I trust you, and if you say it'll be different then I believe you."

Spock has no idea what to say to a display of trust like that, so he says nothing. Instead, he slowly extends his free hand towards Jim's face. If this is what his friend thinks he needs, then this is what Spock will give him.

Jim flinches slightly as Spock's fingers touch his face, but when Spock carefully and gently brushes against the bare edges of his mind Jim's eyelids flutter and his entire body relaxes.

"Oh, my."

There is no pain this time. No grief and no guilt burning like Vulcan's former sun. This time, Spock knows Jim is feeling only pleasure, warm and soft and bright. There will be time for sharper pleasures later, for heat and arousal and lust. For now, he simply wraps Jim in a mental embrace and lets him float.


End file.
